


I could hold you in my arms

by leiascully



Series: A Thousand And One Nights [5]
Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-14
Updated: 2012-10-14
Packaged: 2017-11-16 07:37:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/537076
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leiascully/pseuds/leiascully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Filming on location isn't exactly a holiday, but Alex makes it seem like one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I could hold you in my arms

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Trialia](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trialia/gifts).



> Timeline: during the filming of "The Angels Take Manhattan"  
> A/N: I continue to do no research and have no idea if this is plausible or not; still, it's a nice thought. Title from the Ray LaMontagne song.  
> Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction that bears no resemblance to and claims no knowledge of the people about whom it is written.

"So," Alex says, nestling against Matt's bare shoulder and dragging her fingertips down his sweaty chest. The hotel bed is wide and heaped with blankets and unnecessary, indulgent numbers of fluffy pillows. He does enjoy American hotels. "Your new Companion's a bit of all right, isn't she?"

"I'm a married man," Matt tells her in a lovely low raspy voice, kissing her forehead. 

"In an alternate timeline," Alex teases him.

He bends his head to kiss her mouth. "I haven't got a wandering eye in any timeline. In any universe. With the bow tie or without it."

"She's still quite pretty," Alex says.

"Objectively," Matt says. He squints his eyes thoughtfully. "I suppose."

"Shut up," Alex says, laughing at him. "You know she is."

"Yes, all right, she's pretty," Matt says. "But I'm not in bed with her. I'm in bed with you. Can we stop talking about other women? Unless...." He pauses. "I...am just going to stop that thought right there."

"You had better," she says, slapping his chest lightly.

"Ms Kingston," he tells her, "no pretty young thing could ever distract me from you."

"Thank you," she says. "I think."

"If I were after young things, I could have had Kaz," he teases.

She laughs. "You could not. For so many reasons."

"So when are you coming to set, eh?" he asks, running a hand over her hair.

"Not sure," she says. "They haven't called me. I'm not certain Steven even knows I'm here yet."

"I hate only seeing you at night," he murmurs. "I need my River. The TARDIS doesn't fly right when you're not around."

"That's because it's a set," she says. 

"You know better than that," he says reprovingly. 

"You're right," she says. "It's magic. It's a magic box with a madman inside."

"You've never seemed to mind the madman inside," he says, nudging his knee between hers.

"Cheeky," she says, pulling him closer. "At least it wasn't a 'the Doctor is in' joke." He loves the way her body shifts and softens to accommodate him. 

"Now there's a missed opportunity," he murmurs as he rocks his hips against hers. "Although I'd hope it was obvious."

"It certainly is," she tells him with a pleased little sigh. 

They don't talk much after that, except for the shorthand of quiet moans and gentle touches. He moves in her, so happy and so in love that he isn't sure he'll still be on this planet when the moment of bliss takes him, but she's with him every moment of it, just like always, and they drift among the stars together.

\+ + + + 

He very much enjoys waking up next to her in the morning, even if the hour is rather earlier than he would have chosen if he didn't have to film all day. At least room service brings them coffee and tea and fruit and eggs and toast and jam - not a proper English breakfast, but tasty enough. Heartier than the breakfast was in Spain, anyway, although he and Alex enjoyed their hot chocolate and biscuits, and enjoyed what came after even more. Matt thinks it's an excellent tradition the two of them are founding, that she comes to him when he's on location whenever she can. Soon enough it'll be back to Cardiff, and soon enough Kaz and Arthur will be gone, and he and Alex will both be working, living on whatever time they can steal for themselves.

"Now what's got you worried?" Alex asks, buttering her toast. "I know those eyebrows."

"I can never get enough of you," he tells her. "Between work and family and more work, I'll never see you."

"You'll see plenty of me," she promises. "Weekends at the very least."

"Is that all?" He sighs. "Sorry. I sound like a petulant child."

She reaches out for his hand. "Maybe it will be fun. An exercise in self-control."

"I don't want to go on a diet of you," he says. "Frankly, I'd rather gorge myself."

"I've still got the flat in Cardiff," she says. "You'll see me."

"When you're not on the other side of an ocean and the whole of America," he says. She purses her lips and squeezes his hand and he looks down at his tea. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I didn't expect it to be difficult."

"It isn't any easier for me," she says gently. "Working here, working there, back and forth between two completely different worlds."

"I know," he says, remorseful. "I really am sorry. I'm spoiling our holiday."

"It's all right," she says with a sweet smile. "Lord knows you ought to be feeling rough today, given what you're filming. I know how that bleeds over. It's the end of something beautiful and of course you're shaken up and feeling strange. But I'll be here when you're done. I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls her hand to his lips and kisses her fingers. "You are a wonder."

She blushes a little. "I know how the world works by now," she tells him. "One day at a time, remember. Is it worth it today, being together?"

"Absolutely," he tells her, his voice gone all husky. He holds her hand to his face, pressing his cheek into her palm.

"Then tomorrow we'll see if it's still worth it," she says.

"I can't see that it ever won't be," he says softly.

"No one can," she tells him with a wry, melancholy little smile that breaks his heart.

"Alex," he says, rough and desperate.

"It's all right," she says, stroking his cheekbone with her thumb. "It's all right. Go and do good work, and when you're done, we'll all have a drink, and then you and I will have a lovely bath and let our imaginations take over."

"You are absolutely too good to me," he says. 

"Oh, now," she says. "Only so much as you deserve." She leans over and kisses him lingeringly.

"Thank you," he says.

She winks at him. "We'll just have to convince Steven that the Doctor needs River around quite a bit more, eh?"

"He needs her always," Matt says, and he means it with every ounce of himself. 

"Keep carrying on like this and you'll be late," she chides him gently, putting her cheek up for a kiss. "Go save the world. I'll see you tonight."

"And tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow," he quotes, and she laughs. 

"The Scottish play is not the thing," she tells him. "Go and get dressed. I shall eat your toast."

He really will be late if he stays, but he can't help lingering a bit as he gets dressed under her appreciative eyes. He comes back for one last kiss, her lips a soft warm promise against his. For her, he thinks, he would move the world. For her he would uproot himself and transplant his life to a new place. But there she sits, sweet and steady, grounding him. He rumples his hair and winks at her.

"How do I look?" he asks, playing the Doctor a moment and tugging at his jacket.

"Amazing," she says in that magical voice, and on the strength of her love and the certainty that she'll be there when the sun sets, he's ready to face whatever the day may bring.


End file.
